Words and acknowledgement Only after I provided them first When I needed you most You never asked, Is there anything I can do? I guess I was blind and never knew A person I considered to be so true could be A bad friend
Chasing after a cunning delusion Years have gone by without A whistle blown The whistle is blowing now— I am calling you out I think all these years I really had A bad friend
When you left, you always left me Feeling strange and guilty As if I failed my call of duty Loving me back never seemed easy Now I finally see— It was you
It was not me Behind the ingenuous mask lies A bad friend
A decision has to be made Do I keep you or let you go, My dud of an amigo? I wonder if there are any words
You could possibly say To make me not want to sever ties
And just walk away today Leaving behind A bad friend
Once again, I have collaborated with my fabulous graphic designer friend in NYC (Liz Daggar). Part 3—and likely the final piece—of my nature collection has arrived. My goal has been to inspire people to get outside and take it all in. All three books are available by clicking the link below:
Another beautiful work of art from Zac Gilbert! He has once again shared his love of nature with us through his lovely photographs and perfectly punctuates them with his written words.
By Brianna Ross
Oct 29, 2017
These books are so inspiring! The pictures make you want to go outside and look at the world around you. The poems are perfectly paired with the creative pictures! Zac really knows how to turn something you normally wouldn’t notice into something amazing. I highly recommend these books if you are looking for a work of art! Each time I look at them I notice something new.
By Cathy Norwood
Oct 28, 2017
This book is like the perfect cup of coffee, striking, comforting, and reminiscent of things I have felt, smelled, tasted before. The photos speak volumes on their own, some stunning and some haunting, but paired with poems that invite us right into Zac Gilbert’s heart and soul, the combination is intoxicating. He seems to capture beauty in details I might look right over and completely miss. To me, his photos are a quiet reminder to slow down and look around. I sat down to read/look at a few pages and I found myself soaking up each page to the end. These will be my coffee table books for the foreseeable future!
Earlier this week, I found myself drifting off in space. Just another one of those sudden occasions when I don’t purposely zone out but, rather, catch myself after the fact and wonder precisely how long I was away. Suffice it to say, I was not in the tiny town in which I currently reside during my respite.
Handsome buildings stand tall, lining either side of the streets, in many of my favorite cities. When I came back down to earth, I so yearned for my shoes to be frolicking down the sidewalk in one of these magical places, rather than resting on the dull carpet under my desk. The eye-catching sides of the buildings were calling my name. Louder so than usual.
I started feeling uncomfortable and wondered how I could shake the feeling. So, I started Google searching (a common habit of mine) ways to stop missing a person, place, or thing. One of the suggestions I found was to not try to squash the feelings and to simply let them stay a while. Playing a certain song or finding the perfect station on Pandora, associated with the memories, was recommended. I took the advice.
An idea shot in my brain — I can use Google Maps to look up a place where I would like to be and then zoom around from there. Like walking! I went to three locations in my cities. I so enjoyed meandering about, albeit digitally. Although the smells, sounds, and tastes were absent, I had the images right there in front of me. Just a click of the mouse and I was happier.
The experience felt nice and helped me to be more in-the-moment. The walls of my room didn’t seem as painfully unlike the impressive buildings with the beautiful sides. A sadness lifted a bit. Although I can never be in more than one place at a time, there is comfort in knowing I can type in an address and at least see the places I am missing. Virtual bliss.